


The Second Coming

by gleefulmusings



Series: Ad Interim [1]
Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/gleefulmusings
Summary: Harry Potter won the battle but lost his brother.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an alternate ending to my story _Kurt Hummel and the Boy Who Lived_. It was one I was considering, but have since disregarded. It will not be happening in the primary story, but I decided to post it in a new series which will see rejected scenarios from many of my current works in progress, showing you how things _might_ have gone.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley stood on either side of the door as sentries, trying to make their presence as unobtrusive as possible. Harry had only barely allowed them to accompany him and they knew better than to push their luck.

It had been three months since the battle in the Ministry and much had changed. Many would be hard-pressed to say the changes were for the better. Certainly much had improved and hope continued to burn brightly in the heart of wizarding Britain, but the losses were devastating.

Harry had survived with no physical injuries, but he hadn’t uttered a word since that horrible night. Hermione and Ron bore scars that would remain with them for the rest of their lives, but were otherwise healthy and whole. They deeply regretted they had been more of a hindrance to Harry than a help. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so concerned with protecting them …

Ginny’s injuries had been minor but numerous, though she was now healed and as much a spitfire as ever. Neville and Susan had made it through unscathed, but their personalities had shifted dramatically. Neville’s temperament was now permanently idling at simmering rage, while Susan had become dour and withdrawn.

Luna continued as the personification of that for which she was named, a source of light and unknowable mystery. She was the only one to whom Harry granted unlimited access to his person. No one knew what they talked about, if anything, since both were always silent in the presence of others.

Sirius had sunk into a deep depression that appeared terminal. Remus tried his best to prod his friend from the dark depths into which he had descended, but knew there was nothing he could do. Sirius would have to pull himself out of this, though it was apparent he had little interest, much preferring to punish himself for his stupidity.

He had been too cocky, too smug, too sure in his superiority. He had truly believed he could handle Bellatrix, despite her reputation. They had both survived the same length of time in Azkaban, but Sirius had remained sane. He was strong and she was broken. She might have drawn ferocity from her madness, but he too was a Black and more than a match for her.

Until the moment he wasn’t.

So stupid. So arrogant. Now he understood that his greatest punishment wasn’t Azkaban. It was this, this cursed life he continued to live because another had sacrificed their life for his.

He sighed and looked forlornly at his godson, who hadn’t spoken to him since that night. He still remembered the look on Harry’s face, frozen in a rictus of horror as he watched his godfather tumbling toward the Veil, only to be grabbed and spun about at the last possible minute.

He would never forget the look of surprise on Kurt’s face as his momentum saved the life of the godfather of his twin brother, only to be flung through the Veil himself for his efforts.

Everything was a blur after that.

Bellatrix had cackled like the hateful bitch she was, loud enough that it shocked Quinn Fabray from her stupor. The next thing everyone knew, there was a flash of light and Bellatrix was relieved of her head, which fell to the floor and rolled toward Quinn, who kicked it right through the Veil.

It had taken the combined efforts of Cedric, Remus, and the Weasley twins to keep Santana from throwing herself into the Veil to follow Kurt. She then disappeared by portkey, still screaming, and hadn’t been seen since. Rumor had it she had sought refuge with her grandmother, high in the Andes. Quinn had said even she could not contact her, though many wondered if she had tried.

Then Voldemort had appeared, quickly followed by Dumbledore, and their duel had almost leveled the Ministry. Voldemort had attempted to possess Harry, but failed miserably. In a feat of magic no one could explain or hope to replicate, Harry had somehow managed to discorporate Voldemort once again, sending his raggedy shade fleeing into the night, squealing vows of retribution.

Harry had then turned his rage on Dumbledore, who had initially dismissed the attack as nothing more than the despair of an overwrought teenager, until Harry decided to abandon magic altogether. Throwing his wand aside, he charged Dumbledore with an unholy roar. Dumbledore was so surprised, he did nothing more but stand there like a stunned animal, only to fall on his ancient ass when Harry plucked the old man’s wand from his hand, snapped it in two, and dislocated his Headmaster’s knees.

“Hear these words, Dumbledore,” he had hissed, “and know them to be true. Everything that has happened these past fifty years, what has happened this night and will continue to happen until Riddle is permanently wiped off the face of this earth, rests on your shoulders. You created him and then left him to fester. You could have stopped him yet chose not to, too mired in your guilt to take responsibility for your inaction. You stood by and watched him commit genocide against the very people you claim you wish to protect.”

“And not for the first time,” Amelia had then said, coming to stand beside Harry and looking down at Dumbledore with deep loathing. “You knew you were the only one powerful enough to challenge Grindelwald, yet you did nothing as he slaughtered entire nations. When you finally put him down, you then had the audacity to accept the plaudits given to you by a weary and broken people. You pretended to govern them, all the while you plotted to fix secretly your next great mistake.”

Harry stood tall and set his shoulders. “I swear by magic and my own will, that at the hour of your greatest menace, I will stand against you and only one of us will leave the field alive.”

Amelia drew her wand and laid it in the palm of her hands, dropping to one knee. “My wand and my person are yours to command, my Lord.”

Sirius and Remus quickly followed, repeating her vow, as did Hermione, Ron, Neville, Susan, Seamus, Cedric, and the others. The only ones who did not were Luna, for reasons no one but she and Harry understood, and Quinn, who had no longer had any interest in Britain and its future. With Kurt gone, she owed these people nothing.

Dumbledore had swallowed heavily. “Harry, please, you must understand …”

“What I understand,” Harry had bellowed, “is that you took my brother from me, forcibly destroyed our bond, kept him from me, and then cursed him to be unable to claim me. You are guilty of sedition and treason against the Crown, but what you have done to the Ancient and Most Nobles Houses of Potter, Black, and Longbottom are a violation of our oldest laws. You were a fool to believe you wouldn’t be held accountable.”

He turned toward Amelia. “Has Gran been notified?”

“Augusta is gathering the Wizengamot for an emergency session,” Amelia had said. “Cornelius is dead and an interim Minister must be appointed. I imagine Dumbledore will be stripped of his powers as Chief Warlock.”

Harry nodded. “Kreacher!”

The elf had popped in immediately. “Master Harry has called for …” He trailed off, looking around at the carnage before him. Mistress Bellatrix was dead and Master Sirius appeared destroyed. “What has happened?”

“My brother is dead,” Harry had whispered.

Kreacher stared at his master in horror. “Apologies, Master Harry, but Kreacher must leave. He must inform Master Kurt’s guardians.”

He disappeared.

“What guardians?” Amelia had demanded. “William and Nadia have already left for America to inform the Vice President.”

Before anyone could posit a reply, Kreacher returned with two others in tow, both of whom were dressed in ivory robes with delicate silver chains around their waists, which led up their chests and encircled their necks.

“His godparents,” Sirius had whispered. “Who are you? Show yourselves!”

The cloaked male bristled at the command. “We do not answer to you, Black.”

The female glided toward Harry and placed a delicate hand on his forehead. “This will not go unpunished,” she had said, her voice rough with anguish and outrage. “This I so swear.”

Harry offered nothing more than a gruff nod in reply.

She removed her hand and then she and her companion vanished.

“How can Kreacher be of service to Master Harry?” the elf had softly asked.

Harry had choked on a sob. “Just get me out of here, Kreacher. Please take me home.”

Kreacher nodded and they were gone.

 

* * *

 

In the following months, magical Britain had been turned on its ear.

The Wizengamot had indeed stripped Dumbledore of his position, appointing Augusta Longbottom as Chief Witch. They had pressed Amelia Bones to accept the post of Minister, but she had declined. Voldemort was now proven to be alive and the DMLE couldn’t afford a change of leadership, for too much upheaval had already occurred.

Many names had been thrown into the ring. Chief amongst them were Lucius Malfoy, Cygnus Greengrass, and Amos Diggory. Even Arthur Weasley’s name was mentioned. Surprisingly, there was a strong movement for the position to be given to Narcissa Malfoy, who respectfully declined. She knew there was far more she could accomplish behind the scenes than she ever could within the trappings of a bureaucracy.

Finally, and with the support of Harry, Sirius, and Augusta, Minerva McGonagall reluctantly accepted the post. As the Head of her own House, she had political training, even if it wasn’t as in depth as those of the more notable Houses. Her length of service as Deputy Headmistress had prepared her well for the administration of a bureaucracy. Further, by vantage of her long and storied career, she knew almost everyone in the wizarding world, including their strengths and weaknesses. She appointed Arthur Weasley as her Undersecretary.

That, of course, left the matter of Hogwarts in flux.

The Board had unanimously voted to dismiss Dumbledore from his position, despite his lengthy arguments that only he was powerful enough to defend the castle should Voldemort strike. The Board took that into consideration, but ultimately decided that Dumbledore himself presented too much of a target, and they didn’t want their children swept up in the crossfire. As it stood, several of the more prominent families had removed their children from the school and hired private tutors. Dumbledore had within his remit the power to dismiss the Board, but recognized it would be a foolish power play at this point.

As Minerva was out of the running to be Dumbledore’s successor, the Board asked Filius Flitwick to step into the post. Several of the more prominent Pureblood members tried to block it, but Harry, who had made it his business to attend, lobbied passionately for Master Filius, arguing that his Goblin heritage was a boon, not a detriment. Further, he was recognized as an unparalleled master of Charms and a world champion dueler. Ragnok had then reached out to Filius and, stunning everyone, offered the assistance of the Goblin Army should Voldemort attack Hogwarts.

Flitwick immediately accepted and appointed Diana Diggory as his Deputy Headmistress. It was an administrative position and he refused to name a fellow professor, knowing how demanding the post had been for Minerva. He appointed Bathsheba Babbling, the professor of Ancient Runes and a former Ravenclaw, the new Head of his former House.

He had then offered the post of Professor of Charms to Narcissa Malfoy, his former apprentice. She accepted on the condition she wouldn’t be required to live in the Castle. It would also allow her to keep an eye on Draco. The news of her appointment had several of the Dark and Neutral families returning their children to Hogwarts, which was what Filius had intended.

 

* * *

 

Now, Harry knelt before the arch, a safe distance away, head bowed as he remembered his lost brother and wept at all that might have been, that _should_ have been, had they been raised together.

Quinn Fabray had returned to the Isles for the memorial, representing herself, Santana, and the Hummel family. Burt Hummel had refused to step foot in Britain and had blocked the Magical United States from offering any aid to the country. He had already lost his son; he refused to allow the sons and daughters of his fellow citizens to sacrifice their lives in a war which wasn’t theirs.

It was rumored that Finn Hudson had a complete mental breakdown when informed of his stepbrother’s death. He was removed from Beauxbatons and returned to the Residence, where he was cared for by his mother. Harry had sent the boy a few letters, but never received a response. The letters were not returned unopened, however, so he had hope Finn had read them and managed to draw some comfort from their shared pain.

Whether he liked it or not, Finn _had_ been raised with Kurt, and they had been brothers by more than mere legality. He honestly wasn’t sure who had it worse: Finn, who had known and loved Kurt for the past ten years; or himself, who was left to mourn endless possibilities.

Harry felt the love of those surrounding him, but he was still hollow. Luna was at his right and Susan at his left, while Cedric, Seamus, Padma, Neville, Fred and George, Ginny, and Blaise stood behind them. Quinn stood off to the side, as aloof as ever, though she had thanked Harry for the invitation. He had tried these past months to initiate a correspondence with her, wanting to know his brother better and, while she always replied, she remained distant. Her pain was too great to discuss Kurt in any depth.

Sirius and Remus stood beyond her, by the door with Hermione and Ron. Amelia and Augusta were also present. Minerva and Filius stood behind the children, wands at the ready just in case.

And that time was apparently now, as Luna suddenly stood, her eyes turning glassy. She calmly removed her wand from behind her ear and began conjuring a pile of magical chains.

“Luna?” asked a startled Harry.

“Get behind and hold on to me, Harry,” she said nonchalantly as she cast the chains through the Veil.

“What?”

“Now, please.”

He did as she bid and frowned when she began pulling on the chains, only to scream when she began being drawn toward the Veil herself.

“Help me!” he shouted at the others.

Immediately they lined up single-file, each with their arms encircling the waists of those before them.

“Almost there,” Luna whispered, panting heavily. “On three!”

She counted down and everyone gave a hard pull on her command.

Kurt Hummel came sailing out of the Veil and crashed to the floor.


End file.
